


An Angel's Lullabye

by lovelyladynight



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M, Family, Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyladynight/pseuds/lovelyladynight
Summary: Erik reflects on nine months into his marriage... with a surprise on the way.





	An Angel's Lullabye

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired By:  
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f3/ff/71/f3ff71a7dff9291840af61b7f95bf618.jpg
> 
> *COMMENTS APPERCIATED!*

It was a quiet evening for the both of them. The ability to spend almost a whole day without doing anything was a miracle, as it seemed, primarily for him, they couldn’t sit still for more than an hour.

The phantom looked upon the angel that was sleeping in his arms, her dark lashes creating half crescents against her pale skin. He captured a couple of her brown curls between his fingertips, pressing them to his lips and watched her shift slightly.

_“Erik…”_

He couldn’t help but smile at her mumble.

How did he ever deserve this beautiful woman, his beautiful Christine, he had no idea. But even so, their time together did come with one great accident; a beautiful surprise.

It was while Christine was at rehearsals a few months ago; her phantom had encouraged her not to go. She had, after all, spent most of her morning with her face in a bucket. After some time of rubs and a large glass of water, Christine had insisted that she must go the rehearsal, as she had missed last week due to Erik’s constant attentions on her. His argument: “Is it so wrong for a husband to love his wife so?” Erik reluctantly allowed her to go, but asked to let Madame Giry know if she started to feel unwell. Then he would come and fetch her. And even after she made the promise, he still wasn’t going to risk it.

The trouble began after Christine finished her aria for _Faust_ , when Erik saw her tremble slightly, then watched in horror as she fainted away. He had hold himself back as Meg, her mother, Monsieur Reyer, and other stage hands rushed forward to help Christine. Madam Giry sent a stage hand to get a doctor as Reyer and her helped Christine to her dressing room.

When she had awoken, Erik was waiting behind the mirror, watching intently. Madam Giry and Meg were both in with her when the doctor appeared. A Persian man who Erik had recognized from his time in Persia, Nadir Khan.

Nadir sat in front of Christine and took her pulse.

“When was the last time you ate, Madamselle?”

“Last night. I woke this morning with an upset stomach and my husband didn’t want me to eat much until it had settled down,” Christine replied.

Nadir looked up at her, eyebrows narrowed, “How often have you been having these problems?”

“With the stomach flu? I think about two weeks… why?”

Nadir took her hands gently, looking into her eyes, “Madam, you might want to see a Midwife… There is a possibility that this isn’t a flu symptom.”

Erik felt his heart stop. _Did he mean… that Christine… his Christine… was expecting?!_ No, it couldn’t be! He couldn’t have children! His deformity… which had shamed him from birth… it could be passed to the little innocent child that his loving wife now carried…

“When was your last cycle?”

“Almost a month ago…” Erik watched as the color drained from his wife’s face.

Meg clapped her hand over her mouth as her mother gently came around, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Please, I just need to be alone…”

Once everyone left, Erik opened the passageway and walked slowly towards his little angel. He knelt before her, resting his masked face against her knees. He felt her tiny hands run through his hair, whispering, “How much-?”

“All of it,” her phantom’s golden voice cracked, “I’m so sorry, Christine…”

She lifted his face to look at her, a smile spread across her face while tears still stained her blushed cheeks.

“Christine?”

“There is no need to apologize, Erik. I wanted to bring it up to you, but I didn’t know how. I’m so happy Erik… for both of us.”

His eyes widened. His wife, his beautiful angelic wife wanted his children? They had never discussed kids before, never even thought about it. But as long as she was happy, so would he.

During the duration of her pregnancy, Erik took time to build a small nursery near his and Christine’s room, painting it a soft yellow. A white cradle was placed in their bedroom for the time being, just until after the baby was old enough to go into the nursery on it’s own. The gender wasn’t known yet to the couple, so they set through picking names for their child.

“But I want your parents’ names in there too, Erik!” Christine argued.

“No! I will not allow my child to be named after that dreadful woman who I called mother!”

Christine sighed, crossing her arms, “Then how about this, Charles Gustave for a boy or Rose Marie for a girl?”

Erik gave her scrutinizing look, “You’d name a boy after my father and girl after my mother’s best friend?”

Christine shrugged, “She was more of a mother figure to you than your birth mother.”

“I love you, Christine,” and that was the end of the conversation.

However, the roughest part of it all was Christine’s mood swings. The midwife warned both them that during the fifth month, women tend to be cranky because of the movements that typically started during the end of the fourth month. And she was right, Christine threw fits that could rival even Erik at his worst. It was during this time, that Erik took special care, pressing kisses against her sweet spot, rubbing her shoulders and feet, and whispering words of love, desire, and comfort. Most of the time, Christine’s temper was subsided and she fell into his embrace like liquid. There was only one time that it was out of control, which caused him to lose his temper at her and left.

When he did return, with a bag of the finest chocolates as an apology, Erik found her crumpled on the floor, crying her poor heart out. Christine was swept up into her arms and was comforted by the soft calling of her name from his golden voice.

After about six months, and a protruding belly that told her she probably wouldn’t be able to walk for some time, Nadir visited and announced her resting days. For three months, Christine was to stay at her home, confined to the walls that had at once felt like a prison in her childish eyes.

“I don’t want to risk the health of you or the baby,” Nadir calmly explained, “Take it as maternity leave so you can rest up for when the baby is ready to be born.”

“And then what?” Christine asked.

Her angel rested her hands on her shoulders, “Let’s wait and see, my dove.”

In his eyes, it was safer for him to be close, just in case she needed him.

And now, nearly eight months done, Christine was struggling to just walk. Her back felt sore and she complained about not able to see her feet. Erik only laughed and suggested some time in the music room.

Even the baby enjoyed hearing its mother sing.

“Will he inherit our music, Erik?” Christine asked one evening, setting her hand atop her belly.

There was silence as she watched him straighten back in his chair. She watched with fascination as his good side frowned, his typical soft and loving expression gone.

“I don’t know, love,” he answered, “From what I understand, there is a possibility… but I wouldn’t put much hope into it.”

“Erik…” He turned and looked at her.

Her bright blue eyes had been filled with tears, and it pulled him to her. He knelt before his angel and rested a hand on her belly, feeling the jerky movements of the child she now carried. His little one, a precious gift.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, “It's possible… and I’m sure they’ll master the piano better than you.”

She swatted him playfully and continued to watch in awe as her phantom bonded with the unborn.

Now, as he looked back on it, he wouldn’t change a thing. He kissed Christine’s forehead before lifting her up into his arms.

“Where are we going?” Christine mumbled.

“You’re tired, _mon ange_ ,” Erik smiled, “I’m taking you to bed.”

“Stay?”

“Always.”


End file.
